


Distraction

by roosebolton



Series: Tension AU [1]
Category: Andrew Hozier-Byrne (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Feels, Bars and Pubs, F/M, Hook-Up, M/M, One Night Stands, POV First Person, Pining, RPF, Safer Sex, andrew's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23453557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosebolton/pseuds/roosebolton
Summary: Andrew can't stop thinking about something, someone, he can't have, so he tries to distract himself from his loneliness with a couple of one night stands.
Relationships: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Alex Ryan (Hozier) (presumed onesided), Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Original Female Character(s), Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Tension AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687216
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20





	Distraction

I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to admit to myself that I'd started having feelings for him, feelings that I knew I had no business having, feelings that I was pretty sure he didn't have and even if he _did_ , wouldn't admit to them. There was no point. There was no way anything could happen between us, not in a serious way. It would be too... I don't know, weird, I guess. Besides, we were just friends. Are just friends. You know.

So I guess when we came off tour and after a while I started hearing that he was seeing someone, I can't say I was really surprised. After all, we’d only started fooling around together every once in a while because we trusted each other and didn't want the sticky situation of sleeping with new people in every town and what that could mean for us, with tabloids, with rumours, with all of that. So we made do with each other, with what we had, just to release the stress and tension of the tour, and it worked.

For a while.

So I heard that he'd been seeing someone, some girl I didn't know and didn't _want_ to know. I never even asked her name because I didn't want to focus on her and what they were probably doing - no, what they were _definitely_ doing.

I guess I was still in denial about having feelings for him because I tried to tell myself it was fine. I knew that Alex had a history of coping via alcohol and hooking up with random people but it didn't ever occur to me that it might become something more. I'd gotten used to the don't ask don't tell situation with him, but this was... not that.

So he was with this girl. They were _together_ and it wasn't just some drunken fling, but who knows how it got started, you know? I didn't want to know and I didn't ask, but people kept asking _me_ about it anyway.

I'm out here all alone and even though I came out here to write, to not be bothered, to be able to focus on my music, it's still been lonely by myself here.

So one day, I decided to take a page from Alex's playbook. I went to a bar, one I didn't normally go to, in a town close to here. I shaved my beard so I'd be less recognisable and put my hair up in a beanie, wore my glasses and everything. I had a few glasses of whiskey and a pint, and suddenly there was this girl. Pretty, fairly petite, light brown hair, an easy smile. I raised my glass to her when she sat next to me, and she asked if I'd buy her a drink, so I did. And then another, and then another, until we were smiling and laughing together.

She wanted to go, but she was definitely too pissed to drive, so I asked her - _would you like me to take you home? Or... would you maybe like to come back to my place?_

She said my place, so we went.

It didn't take long before we were in my bedroom, clumsily taking our clothes off, half-heartedly kissing, and I was rummaging in my side table for a condom. She left her shirt on, and so did I, when she climbed in my lap the minute I'd finished rolling the condom on, and rode me until I guess she finished, or else too drunk to do anything but fake it. I rolled her over and didn't take too much longer, wired up and more sober than her, to finish, myself. We both used the toilet, the condom unceremoniously ending up in the little trash bin I keep in there, and then we climbed in my bed, and she curled up facing away from me, falling asleep right before me.

In the morning I offered to make her breakfast, but she declined, wanting to leave. We both remembered, then, that her car was back at the pub. We drove there in silence, and I let her out. She gave me a small wave as I drove off, and she never called me again after that. I don't even remember her name.

When I got home, I lay in my bed for a while, trying to process what had happened.

_Isn't this how people do it? Meet people and bring them home, just like that? Why do I feel so awful now? I guess I had an all right time before I brought her home, and while we were in the middle of the act, but I can't blame her for wanting to go home. I would've wanted to go home too._

I thought a lot after that, about myself, about what happened. I wondered what changed about me that spending the night with a girl I’d barely known seemed.... unsatisfactory, even _uncomfortable_ after the fact. She was a pretty girl, nice, with a decent sense of humour as far as I could tell. Shouldn’t that have been enough that we could have seen where it went? But it wasn’t just her not calling me back that made it sting. 

Part of me didn’t _want_ her to, I think. 

Mentally I decided that the problem wasn’t with her, it was with me. I wasn’t into it, wasn’t into her and I didn’t know _why._

I thought about it some more and something occurred to me: the last person I’d been with, in any way, was Alex. Maybe… it was because she was a girl? Had I lost my taste for women? I’d never gone as far with a man as I had with him, and even though it sounded stupid even at the time, maybe something about it had changed me fundamentally.

It took a long time for me to decide, but I thought, _maybe I’ll feel better if I have sex with another man…?_

I had no way of knowing how I would feel or even if I would be able to go through with it, but it didn’t seem impossible. Why not give it a try, if it made me feel less lonely?

I didn’t think that going to a bar again was a good idea. I’m always worried about someone recognising me and gossipping to someone I know, and the idea of picking up a lad in a bar made me extremely leery.

So, I guess, I came forward to the 21st century. I downloaded one of those dating apps, the kind that some people use for dates and others use for hookups. I set my “looking for” to men only, and the picture I used cropped most of my face out. I used my middle name for my display name, wore a normal plain t-shirt and jeans, and didn’t mention music at all, nothing that would make me obvious. 

I’d been on there a couple of days before I started getting messages. There were a few lads I held conversations with, but most of them came on a little strong for me or were looking for something I couldn’t offer. One of them was married and looking for something on the side (no thank you), and one of them was just curious and had even less experience than me (can’t help you, lad). One of them stood out to me, though: he was kind, didn’t do what _some_ did and send me a picture of his cock straight away, was patient and not too pushy. I explained to him my situation, that I’d always considered myself straight, or mostly, only ever been with one man and that that man and I couldn’t be together for reasons too complicated to explain. I didn’t want a relationship, I told him, I just wanted to see what being with someone else would make me feel. Safety and discretion, but no strings.

He said he was up for it. We agreed to meet at a hotel. I’d learned my lesson about bringing people home.

I still kept my face shaved and my hair up in a beanie with my glasses on, just in case. We met at the hotel bar and had a drink or two (whiskey, mine; pints for him), just enough to make me go up to the room with him instead of running away. 

So we went up to his room, and it was immediately awkward. I wasn’t sure where to start, if we should just take our clothes off, or what, but he sat me on the bed, and he said to me, “Look, I know this might be weird for you. Just do what you’re comfortable with. Start by taking off your shoes, maybe.”

So I did. And then he helped me take off my trousers and my boxers and though he still had all his clothes on, he got down on his knees and blew me. It felt good, I won’t lie, he’d obviously had a lot of practice. I didn’t finish, though, then. He asked me if I was vers, and I felt really stupid because I didn’t know what he meant until he explained it to me. (After he explained, I agreed that it seemed about right, just never heard that term before, even in passing.) He asked what I preferred, and I told him the truth, which was that I honestly didn’t know, so he asked if I felt comfortable fucking him rather than the other way round, and I said yes, that seemed reasonable. He brought lube with him and I felt stupid for not thinking of that, too, though I did bring condoms. 

The actual sex part was easy, he didn’t need as much warmup as I would have in the same circumstances, and I kind of suspected that he wanted me as top because of my size, by the way he seemed impressed with it. He definitely enjoyed himself, at any rate, judging by the puddle he left on the comforter, and I finished well enough since he’d got me halfway there before we began. 

Afterward, when we were all cleaned up and dressed, I thanked him, gave him a quick hug. He smelled nice. I didn’t stay the night. 

He was nice, kind, a sound lad and good with his mouth. The one thing that spooked me, though, is that I swear, even though I was careful to hide who I was in the dating app, that he called me by my first name once or twice, though I didn’t give it too much thought until I’d gotten home.

It was my turn, then, I guess, to be the one who didn’t call. He sent me messages for several days, then nothing for a week, and after a week after that he sent me a message that he was blocking me, but left me his number. Just in case.

I didn’t need it. I felt just as bad as I had after the girl. So, my partner’s gender didn’t seem to be the issue, I guess. At least I knew it wasn’t that. It was just… _me._

Even though the fucking felt good, it still left me hollow afterward. I didn’t feel the warmth I expected. There was no real connection, just physical pleasure. Even when I was with both of them, I still felt awkward and lonely.

I guess I was still in denial about what I really wanted, to some degree. Maybe I still am. I don’t know. I just want to feel some kind of human connection that doesn’t feel surface-level and fake. 

And there’s some part of me that only wants one thing, and at least right now, it’s something I can’t have. Maybe I never will be able to, I don’t know. But unless something changes, that’s where I’m at. 

I tried to distract myself, but all it did was bring me full circle, back to where I’d begun.


End file.
